March 16th 1984

posted in: The way back | 0
Chawang beach

We made the move straight away this morning – it we’d waited until we’d had breakfast, that would have taken us to lunch-time or beyond.  We were assured by the people at the restaurant that a) Chawang was impossibly expensive, + b) to get there we would have to take a taxi to town and then another one round the other side of the island.  As Chawang was only a few kilometres down the road we didn’t accept this + lugged our bags out to the road, where we hitched.  We got a lift in no time with a truck ferrying some workers about, + tho’  we stopped once along the way for them to disappear into the fields + return with lengths of what looked like young palm trunk which they’d hacked down + then into pieces, we were soon enough dropped off at the junction.

We had some breakfast at the first bungalow we came to, + after a brief look round at the competition, decided to stay there.  It was called, with English boarding-house unoriginality, Seaside Bungalows.  And that marked just about the extent of our activity for the day.  We swam a bit, relishing the sky-blue sea, + for the rest of the day we lazed around, or’ like dogs, patrolled our new territory.  Chaweng is more developed than Bophut, + many of the places have videos, so I tried checking out the restaurants for what particular treat they had on offer tonight.  Not as simple a task as it might appear – the effort of trudging thro’ the soft sand was difficult enough, + getting information, even relatively straightforward information, from the guys in the restaurants was worse.  So that even when I thought I had it all sorted out, + we went off to the appropriate place at the right time to see the film I’d chosen, it wasn’t on, + we had a stressful time rushing up + down the beach.  Fortunately, by the time we’d given up on the whole idea + gone to one of the non-video places, the grass cookie I’d eaten earlier was beginning to make itself felt, + was calming me down.  And then when we’d had a couple of Mekong cocktails, the local whiskey with fruit juice, the world was beginning to look much rosier.  The meal too was out of this world, our second such one within a few days.  I just had fish + chips, but it was so fresh + well-cooked.  Pineapple fritters for pud.  Ironically, they did have a video on here (the Chaweng guest-house) + it wasn’t really their fault it was a rubbish film – Mel Brooks’ “History of the World.”

More indulgence – sun, sand, food and dope; I suppose I can justify it by saying we were recharging our batteries after the rigours of longhouse life.

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